


Memories of Greece

by AzureRegulus



Series: Beginning of the new Apocrypha [3]
Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureRegulus/pseuds/AzureRegulus
Summary: Enjoying the warm weather, Crio upholds his promise to Medusa and visits Medea to get his scar checked up.Amused and annoyed he gazed as the Caster furiously brushed leaves aside, before lending a helping hand.And in the end, the Caster realized once more why when she spoke to him, she was reminded of an old friend...
Series: Beginning of the new Apocrypha [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902436





	Memories of Greece

The breeze in Fuyuki gently brushed over his white hair.

Only wearing his white dress shirt, blue jeans and black boots, Crio strolled up the path to the Ryudoji temple with a smile on his face.

The walk relaxed him from the long, long glaring contest with Archer.

These two would never be friends, that is what most people think.

Beautiful green leaves danced in the air with a strong gust of wind dashing by him. A small smile on his face, his eyes wandered up to the flight of stairs.

Diligent as ever, he found her sweeping the stairs clean of any leaves.

A beautiful woman, a princess.

Long, purple strands, straight and going down her back waving softly in the winds with a bit of it braided behind her elf-like ears. A beautiful face was always adorned with purple lipstick…

…and once more pursed sourly.

That scowl he knew everywhere.

‘He is still not helping her. Lazy son of a…’, Crio cursed the Assassin, glaring at every branch and tree.

But the purple robed Samurai was nowhere to be found, cloaked as expected of a Servant of his class.

“Huah!!!”.

A startled yelp cut through his thoughts. Eyes up and wide, his body moved up with speed akin to a bolt of lightning when the woman lost her balance and nearly fell down the flight of stairs.

Arms open, he barely caught her. Startled her eyes opened to a prominent vein about to pop.

“Okay, where is that asshole of an assassin?!”, he growled. Resting her head on her hand, she rolled her eyes. An everyday situation where the Servant was needed, but nowhere in sight, opting to rather laze around than help. “What do you think? That asshole always skips work.”, she grumbled. Her anger flew away with a gush of wind, instead gifting her a smile as she gazed up at the blue eyes with a pat on his cheek. “You might want to let go of me however before anyone catches us in this position.”.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”.

Making she was stable on her feet, Crio chuckled a bit as he picked up her broom. But the instant he was straight up, he was gifted a small, playful peck on his cheek. “Efcharisto, iros mou. (Thank you, my hero.)”, she giggled the instant a blush forced itself on his cheek. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Crio whispered: “It is no wonder if people will get the wrong impression if you do that the entire time, Medea…”.

“Aw, but you are so adorable with that blush of yours!”.

“Stamata!”.

While Medea was wiping a few leaves away, her impressed gaze never left Crio’s back.

Or rather…

…the large draconic wings that came out of them, flapping to remove the leaves without the need for a broom.

Wonderful sapphire scales, shimmering like the ocean of ancient Greece.

“Say, how did you get those wings?”, she asked curiously. The second she asked, Crio instantly flinched and his wings stopped flapping to create wind. Everything inside his body cringed at the memory. Closing his eyes, he continued to create wind. “You don’t want to know. Not a good experience.”, his nervous mumble reached the worried Caster. Without wishing to dig any further if it really brought up so many bad memories, she silently continued to sweep.

But she saw how Crio suddenly began to clench his chest as if he was in intense pain.

Turning his back to her, Crio took a deep breath to make the pain subside.

But Medea was not oblivious.

Satisfied and proud of their work, Medea wiped a sweat of her brow. “Finally done. Efcharisto, Crio. Your help is greatly appreciated.”. “Nothing to thank for.”, Crio chuckled a bit. “After all, why spend the entire day sweeping the broom if you can spend it with your dear Souichirou?”.

“Oh, he isn’t here today.”, she answered swiftly, taking the broom and walking towards the shed with him.

“Really? Where is he?”.

“A conference. I am alone here today.”.

“Issei also?”.

“He is out with Saber’s master.”.

“I see.”.

With everything settled, the two sat at the porch with freshly made tea by the Caster. Gratefully taking the cup in his hand, Crio inhaled the sweet scent. After done work, a sweet tea was always the best reward.

But he always felt Medea gazing at him.

“Medea it is fine…”.

“Crio, receiving Heracles’ battle axe square over your back is not fine…”, she reprimanded harshly with her own cup in hand. As a former Argonaut, she saw the Berserker in battle herself much more often.

Power he showed during his life, his current Berserker state cannot compare to.

Blue eyes shut half, Crio explained: “It was either I or Shirou. He already survived one such blow, but not a second one.”. “I am aware. I was watching your battle with him.”. Her tone was harsh, full of worry. The battle was a gruesome sight.

Artoria had been completely outmatched and Shirou was at a loss.

In order to buy time, Crio had taken the battle up himself, turning into a gruesome blood bath as he took life after life of Heracles, yet for every life he took, lost more blood in return, resulting in the abominable scar reaching from his right shoulder to his left waist.

“You said it yourself! You are not immortal! Stop being so reckless. One day, someone is going to suffer because of that self-destructive way of life! There are people around you that care for you, Crio.”.

“Yet that was the only way of life that was able to save a child…”.

The words spoken from his lips, brought forth many memories inside Medea. A gasp, soft and distraught, she gazed inside her cup as the image began to change…

…showing herself in her younger years.

_Far in the past, Medea sat underneath the tent, remembering how the woman with the long blonde locks combed her hair gently. A soft smile was on the woman’s peach lips, her fingers combing through Medea’s hair to remove any rough knots._

_Outside on the beach, children’s laughter could be heard as they ran to find out who was faster._

_Yet none would be able to match her friend’s delicate feet, not even as adults._

_A woman, too fast, too beautiful, too distant for most males to ever reach out to. Out of the males on board of the Argo, only Heracles and Peleus were able to converse with her normally get gifted a small smile._

_“Atalanta, you are always the kind one. Both to children and to me.”._

_The girls briefly glanced outside, smiling as the children ran. The woman behind her smiled softly with a tender glint in her green eyes. The sight of children able live like this, without fear and responsibility, without having to fight, filled her heart with joy._

_Everything she could never hope to receive. “Right after I was born, I was abandoned by my father. Merely because I was a female. Even then, the goddess Artemis saved me, and I lived.”, she explained, her soft voice, deep yet as gentle as the waves outside. Medea loved to listen to her, feeling the delicate hands go through her lavender hair. Whenever she could speak to Atalanta, Medea felt at ease._

_She was strong. Incredibly strong. Her body seemed delicate, yet the strength of will her heart possessed was nothing short but awe inspiring._

_“So that is the reason behind your kindness. You are grateful to the goddess of the hunt.”, she answered the woman combing her hair._

_“Yes. She saved me…cradled me in her arms. But as a goddess, she can only stay in this world for so long. At one point, I had to live on by myself, but I would never forget the kindness she offered me. I might fight recklessly at times, but if I can make the world a better place, I will do so without a second thought. I want to create a world where every child is loved.”, the woman claimed her wish to her dear friend, grasping onto the small hand that laid in hers. “I do not want to ever hear a child having to suffer like I did ever again.”._

_Medea smiled softly up at her, loving every moment she had with the huntress of legend. “That is a beautiful wish. I am sure, that wish can touch many people.”, Medea admitted with her whole heart poured into it._

_Yet her body shivered, when Atalante shook her head with a sad glint inside those beautiful emerald eyes. “There isn’t. The men I met were not interested in my feelings, my principles, nor do they respect my oath to lady Artemis. They see me the same as my father; a mere woman. A trophy. Maybe more like the pelt of a skinned lion. That is why…”._

_Slowly Atalanta swallowed, keeping her voice calm._

_“I will probably stay alone forever…”._

_“I don’t believe it.”._

_The huntress’ eyes lit up in surprise when Medea denied every word she just spoke with a shake of her head. Clasping Atalanta’s hands, Medea’s face brightened. A smile, radiant, tearing through the dark clouds of Atalanta’s mind. “Atalanta, you are so kind and beautiful. And your wish…I cannot imagine people laughing you for trying to create a better world. I am sure: Out there somewhere, is a man who wants to find you. He is searching all of Greece for you, maybe right now, maybe in a year. But he is out there and he would love to be with you!”, Medea lifted her spirits, feeling it deeply in her heart._

_There was someone…someone that was meant to love the unreachable huntress._

_“He will come to you, tell you that you have a beautiful wish, admit surprised and proud how a woman like you was able to keep her oath and he would cherish it. He will help any way he can, with your wish, and keeping your promise to lady Artemis!”, Medea told Atalanta with the brightest smile she could muster, forcing Atalanta to shed a small tear as she chocked at Medea’s light touching her heart._

_“Out there, somewhere! Just believe in it, Atalanta! He will come to you!”._

_“…I believe you…Medea…”._

“…Atalanta…thought the same…”, Medea whispered.

His lips on the cup, Crio’s eyes wandered to Medea, having barely heard her speak. Dwelling in memories, her thumbs cradled the cup in her hands. A smile bearing a lot of pain, yet also sweet memories.

He knew that look in her eyes.

“What are you mumbling about?”.

“Nothing. Though…”, Medea answered, attempting to sound smug. Opening an eye, she asked: “If you were a master tomorrow, what Servant would you like at your side?”.

There was a focused curiousity. He felt that she wanted a very certain answer.

Before he could answer however, she interrupted him with a grin. “Ah, before I forget: Caster and Rider excluded. Those spots belong to me and Medusa.”. “Sheesh, I didn’t even say anything.”, he chuckled softly how she immediately took the spots.

But now he had to think.

“Hmm…I guess…an Archer…”.

The smile on her face grew ever wider.

“Why so?”.

“You said I was reckless. An Archer would at least have an eye on my surroundings.”.

If anything, it proved the hunch Medea had for the longest time. Her eyelashes fluttered…

…gazing at the speckless blue sky that reminded her of that day.

‘Here he is…and yet you are not with us….’. “Crio, do you think all Servants were released?”, she questioned openly. After the grail was destroyed, only the eight Servants of this war were released.

Day after day Crio tried to find an explanation, yet could not come up with an answer.

Having to answer with a shake his head, he mumbled: “I don’t know. Right at this moment, it seems to be just you eight.”. With a shrug of his shoulders, he gazed up at the blue sky.

“Maybe there are more out there…Maybe is just you and the others…”.

“I hope so. I would love to introduce you to her.”.

“…Who?”, he questioned with a tilt of his head.

Out of corner of his eyes, he dreaded the smug grin he was given.

“Oh, you know who! It was adorable how you sat at the harbor and you confessed to the moon!”.

Once more his face grew the color of cherries, his ears growing hot. “T-That was-“. “Aw, she would adore you, I know it. And she’d love teasing you as much as I do!”, Medea giggled. Clutching to his neck she grinned down how Crio bit his lip with a defeated look, unable to turn the color of his skin back to normal, partly because of her chest poking against his back, and the other half about being the victim of his own ramblings again.

Medea looked right through him and the night at the harbor he would never forget.

She knew that Crio was dangerous and the reason she appeared first that night with her Rule Breaker in hand was to dispose of him before he would become dangerous…

That was the plan…

…before she heard him whisper about how fond he was of the huntress of old.

Since that day, Medea had a soft spot for the man that held affection for her comrade, her dearest friend, her sister. Constantly she would tease him, yet never telling to much of her.

And that she’d poke into him over and over.

“Your blush is cute! She would have as much fun with you as me and Medusa do!”.

“Would you please just stop?!”.

“Hm…No. And I know for a fact you would not dare raise your hand on this princess. Isn’t that right?”.

A groan escaping him, he took a sip of his tea as Medea winked down at him. And yet he had to smile.

Medea, the princess of Colchis, an infamous witch, an older sister figure to him that always took care of him.

Gilgamesh's weaponry, swords and lances piercing her body as she protected her master, he would never allow a second time.

That he vowed, careful not to shatter the cup in his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Slow and steady we are getting closer. 
> 
> Medea is an incredibly underrated character. Aside from being extremely beautiful, her backstory is a tragic one. An unfortunate soul being played with by the gods. In that regard, she finds not only kinship in Crio who had been tortured by them himself in a more gruesome manner, but times and times again she is reminded of Atalanta due to his recklessness when it comes to protecting others. 
> 
> Though he is not that squishy as normal human, he is still mortal and can die easily.
> 
> We are slowly getting to the start of Apocraphya. Everything is going its course.


End file.
